


as human as anyone else

by piedpiper



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Body Horror, Carlos is a Good Boyfriend, Cecil Doesn't Even Know What Cecil Is Okay, Cecil Might be Human or Inhuman, Cecil is Inhuman, Cecil is Mostly Human, Fluff and Angst, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Typical Night Vale Weirdness, just a little bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-14
Updated: 2014-03-14
Packaged: 2018-01-15 15:39:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1310149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piedpiper/pseuds/piedpiper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cecil is the only person Carlos has ever met who looks less peaceful when asleep. His veneer of chipperness falls away, when his guard is let down so entirely by unconsciousness; the shadows under his eyes grow darker and he looks like a man haunted by the memories of almost indescribable horrors. He almost certainly is. Nearly everyone in this town is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	as human as anyone else

**Author's Note:**

> Another exploration of where Cecil lies on the human/inhuman scale. I really like this one, actually.

It hasn't happened before as far as they know, nor is it likely to happen again as far as either of them knows, but it sure as hell is happening now.

"I'm not a monster," Cecil sobs, black tears streaking down his cheeks, breath coming in desperate hiccups. "I'm not, I'm not, you have to believe me, Carlos, I am absolutely human, I swear I am..."

"I believe you," Carlos says quietly. "I believe you, Cecil." He takes Cecil's hands and cups them in his own, holds them tight until the tentacles wriggle back underneath Cecil's nails and vanish with little slurping noises. He kisses the rough purple scales on Cecil's temples until they soften and melt back into skin, and kisses his closed eyelids until the tears run clear and watery again. He holds his lover close, warm fingers on the back of his neck, until Cecil's breathing slows and his body unknots and relaxes. He keeps a hold on him all through the rest of the night, bare skin against bare skin, his lower arms wrapped around Cecil's body exactly below his ribcage, holding him close or maybe holding him back from whatever it is he fights against in his sleep. Even in deep slumber, Carlos' grip doesn't loosen. It never does.

In the morning, Carlos wakes to birds and Cecil's heavy, almost-snoring breathing, so close against his face he can feel the moisture of his breath with every exhale. He opens his eyes and looks into Cecil's dozing, black-streaked, exhausted, completely-human face, not six inches from his own. 

Cecil is the only person Carlos has ever met who looks _less_ peaceful when asleep. His veneer of chipperness falls away, when his guard is let down so entirely by unconsciousness; the shadows under his eyes grow darker and he looks like a man haunted by the memories of almost indescribable horrors. He almost certainly is. Nearly everyone in this town is. 

"Good morning," is what Carlos _doesn't_ say, because god knows Cecil doesn't get nearly enough sleep nowadays as it is, and being able to search his face so openly for so long without receiving a huge blush and and awkward grin and look away in return is a rare privilege. Those shadows under Cecil's eyes _kill_ Carlos. He dreams ( _day_ dreams – his actual dreams are rather different things these nights) sometimes about taking them both on a drive out of Night Vale in his small hybrid car and not stopping, driving on and on until they run out of gas somewhere far, far away from Night Vale and its surrounding communities, far away from all the horrors of this town and its clocks and its trees which aren't clocks or trees and its endless, unbroken night sky.

Carlos wishes, but Carlos knows that such a thing would be impossible as caging the sunrise. Cecil is a part of Night Vale as integrally as Cecil's heart is a part of Cecil's body, and all three of them are delicate, translucent, beautiful things, maybe terrifying but not impossible to love, and certainly impossible to separate without destroying. Cecil could never leave Night Vale, and Carlos could never leave Cecil, and it is as simple as that.

"How are you feeling?" Carlos murmurs into Cecil's ear, scientifically, and watches as Cecil opens his eyes, bleary and glasses-less and dark on the edge of normality. The shadows retreat from underneath to somewhere behind, where they lurk always during the radio announcer's waking hours. You might not see them if you weren't looking for them, but then again, they're not hard to spot. You'd have to _really_ not be looking not to see.

"Fine," Cecil says, which is what he says every single morning like this since they have started waking up together. "Why wouldn't I feel fine? I mean, you're here. How could I not feel fine with you here?" He kisses Carlos on the nose.

Carlos smiles and kisses him back, slightly lower down and rather less chastely. He can still taste the salt of tears on Cecil's lips, and something more like blood, or maybe burnt feathers, faintly inside his mouth.

He doesn't mention it. There are many things you don't talk about in this town, Carlos has learned. And another thing he's learned in the last year is that sometimes, that's okay.


End file.
